Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Remington shifted his gaze from Shawn back to the waitress with a cool detachment.

"It's just me tonight. Oh, and my bear here, my only companion. So, there's no need for a private booth. Sitting out here is just fine."

With those words, he finally placed the teddy bear he had been holding under one arm onto the sofa chair next to their table.

The teddy ended up sitting side by side with Lizetta, while Remington, with his long legs, took a seat across from her, facing her directly.

Lizetta found herself torn between laughter and discomfort, somewhat uneasy in her seat.

She looked at Remington, her eyes filled with questions.

Yet, Remington wasn't looking at her. Instead, he asked the waitress, "What did they order?"

Following his gaze, the waitress glanced over at Lizetta and Shawn's table before turning back and saying, "Sir, they're having a fondue."

But fondue, when eaten alone, seemed too melancholic a sight. The waitress, observing the man before her - distinguished yet solitary, accompanied only by a bear - couldn't help but imagine a sad drama unfolding.

Such a handsome man shouldn't be eating fondue alone, she thought.

"Sir, to be honest, our fondue is quite average. Maybe you'd like to check the menu for something else..."

Before she could finish, Remington cut her off, "Fondue sounds good. I'll have that."

The waitress hesitated, her gaze softening even more, as if afraid of saying something wrong and hurting the proud yet sorrowful man before her.

Lizetta couldn't stand it anymore, and suddenly remembered that Yolanda had been gone to the restroom for quite a while now.

Concerned, she quickly stood up and said to Shawn, "Dr. Shawn, I need to use the restroom."

With that, she headed towards the restroom, her pace quickening.

Before she reached the door, she heard familiar footsteps behind her.

Lizetta stopped, about to turn around, when Remingtonnoveldrama

an arm around her should Rebel

pressing her into a corner.

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Her back against the cold wall, Remington's hand behind her head cushioned her

from any impact.

Looking up, Lizetta asked, "Remington, what are you doing?"

Remington, looking down, his eyes deep with a hint of hurt, said, "Seventeen minutes and fifty-three seconds."

Confused, Lizetta asked, "What?"

His lips pursed slightly, his eyes filled with undisguised displeasure and jealousy.

"The time

time took me to drive here

from the Starlight Group, and u spent holding ha

that pretty boy."

Lizetta was taken aback, recalling the scene and realizing too late that Remington had misunderstood.

It wasn't a hand-hold; who holds hands at the wrist?

She was at a loss for words, wanting to explain, when Remington took her hand.

Suddenly, he produced a pack of alcohol wipes, pulled out a couple, and began vigorously cleaning her fingers.

His actions were meticulous, cleaning between each finger thoroughly.

Lizetta watched him, his brows furrowed in concentration, feeling an unspoken bitterness spreading in her heart.

Finally, after he finished, Remington brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. A tingling sensation spread, making Lizetta involuntarily curt her fingers.

"Remington..."